


Done This Before

by dessertmeltdown



Category: Firefly
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-21
Updated: 2012-01-21
Packaged: 2017-10-29 21:21:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/324288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dessertmeltdown/pseuds/dessertmeltdown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mal is drunk and thinking.  That’s never a good combination.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Done This Before

**Author's Note:**

> Established romance between Mal/Simon, slightly fuzzy timeline. I’d say post-series/pre-Serenity. But it’s quite a while after Objects in Space. A few months at least.
> 
> Silliness.

Mal was drunk. Completely, utterly, falling over drunk. It had been a while since he’d drank this much, and his head was sort of spinning. Also, he had no idea where he was. He reckoned that was a bad thing.

It wasn’t until he managed to push himself up that he realized he was back on the ship--in Simon’s room to be exact.

That was interesting. He had no idea how he got there. No way Jayne brought him back. He’d had even more to drink than Mal. Zoe was an option. And that was it. Zoe must have brought him back with her.

It took him a second to realize he wasn’t alone in the bed. Simon was sitting up on the side nearest the wall, legs stretched out in front of him, with a book in his hand.

“You’re awake.”

“I was asleep?” Mal didn’t remember going to sleep.

“Passed out is a better word. Zoe and Wash carried you back. Told them to put you in here,” he paused, “I figure they could have gotten you down into your bunk, but this was a lot easier.”

“Don’t sleep in there much anymore anyway.”

It was true. The only time he was ever in his bunk anymore was when he and Simon were having a really big fight. It didn’t happen often, but when it did it lasted for days, usually until Kaylee got fed up and forced them to start talking to each other again.

Last time it had lasted two weeks.

“Good point,” Simon had a hint of a smile on his face but was still looking at his book.

He tried to push himself up, but his head started spinning again and oh yeah, he was drunk. Very drunk. He settled for lying on his back, looking up at the ceiling because that seemed to be the only position that didn’t result in nausea.

“Headache?”

“Worse. Spinning room.”

“You’re lucky I actually like you or you would have woken up in the infirmary, strapped to the table.”

He’d done that to Jayne before. The result wasn’t exactly pretty. Though, Mal recalls, very amusing to everyone who witnessed the result.

“Yeah,” he paused, “I am pretty lucky.”

Most people couldn’t think when they were so drunk they were nauseous. Mal thought too much. Suddenly he was thinking hard about how lucky he really was. Pretty damn lucky, he wagered. He didn’t realize he’d zoned out until Simon spoke.

“You’re doing it, aren’t you?”

He opened one eye and looked up at the other man.

“Doing what?”

“That thing you do when you’ve had too much to drink. You’re pondering on the mysteries of life or what have you.”

“Something like that.”

“What is it tonight then? Wondering how one draws the line between good and evil? That was a fun one. Especially when you decided that the root of all evil was the field mouse.”

Mal doesn’t remember that, but he’s sure Simon is telling the truth. He doesn’t think Simon has ever lied to him. He’s pretty damn sure Simon has never done anything wrong. Unless of course you counted the few times he’d helped out with the crime.

And that whole being on the run from the law thing. But who’s counting that?

“No field mice then,” Simon laughed quietly when Mal hadn’t answered after a few minutes.

“Why are you with me?”

“Oh, it’s this great question of life,” Simon closed his book and turned to lean against the wall so he was facing Mal, “We’ve had this conversation, Mal.”

Mal’s eyes were closed and he put on a slight smile.

“Let’s have it again.”

“What’s the point, Mal? You’re just going to have forgotten by morning.”

“Exactly. And then the next time I’m like this, we can have it all over again.”

“And that’s a good thing?”

“Of course it is!”

Simon laughed quietly. He knew exactly where this was going because on occasion when Mal got drunk he would start to question their relationship and ask Simon a lot of questions that Simon thought were ridiculous, and Mal thought were completely rational.

It was also a conversation Simon knew they would never have when Mal was sober. So every time he humored him. It didn’t hurt much anyway.

“Fine. Ask me again.”

There was a long pause before Mal spoke again.

“I forgot what I asked.”

“You were pondering the mysteries of life. Tonight’s chosen topic was our relationship.”

“Oh, right,” he didn’t say anything for a few seconds, “you’re too good for me.”

“I’m not too good for you, Mal.”

“Yes you are. You’re all,” he opened his eyes and pushed up so that he was sitting and started gesturing with his hands, “smart and you were rich and you were a doctor!”

“Am a doctor.”

“Are a doctor! See!”

“And you’re a ship’s captain.”

“You’re a better person than me. Gave up everything for your sister. Also, you put up with me, and we all know how much that takes out of you.”

“Now, you might have a point there. Not many people would have the patience to put up with you.”

“Nope,” Mal grinned, “See, I’m right. You are too good for me.”

“Too good to you, possibly,” Simon turned around and laid back next to Mal, “not for you though,” he grinned, “I wouldn’t hesitate to tell you if I thought I was.”

“That’s nice to hear.”

“What can I say? I’m a giver.”

Mal was quiet for a while, and Simon thought that perhaps he’d gone to sleep. Or passed out. Something.

No such luck.

“Simon?”

“Yes, Mal.”

“Tell me I’m pretty.”

Simon laughed and rolled his eyes. This was going to be a long night.


End file.
